


On Edge

by SerenityXStar



Category: Avenged Sevenfold
Genre: Begging, Edging, Good Aftercare, M/M, Meaning handcuffs, Not even pretending anything else, PWP, Slight BDSM elements, did i say smut?, dirty dirty smut, like woah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 03:45:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4772264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenityXStar/pseuds/SerenityXStar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'It felt like it had been hours.  Days.  He’d been pinned down and spread out for years, kept on edge for centuries.  Time was funny, his slightly hysterical mind mused.'</p><p>Pure smut.  Edging smut. You've been enticed. ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Edge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vesta46](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Vesta46).



> So.. yeah. This is the smuttiest thing I've ever wrote. Dirty smut, all of it. If four and a half pages of smut isn't your thing, might not want to read this one. ;)
> 
> Vesta46, in all of her infinite wisdom, requested this one. So all of the smut is for her. ;)
> 
> Hope everyone likes it. Comments are great.

It felt like it had been hours. Days. He’d been pinned down and spread out for years, kept on edge for centuries. Time was funny, his slightly hysterical mind mused. Speeding by one second, dragging the next. Was time even real? Probably not. Something so ridiculous couldn’t actually-

A hand wrapped around his cock and he nearly choked on his indrawn breath, hips trying to jerk, but having no room to move. His thoughts scattered again, losing whatever slight coherence they might have regained when the hands had left the last time.

That’s all they seemed to do. Touch. Tempt. _Tease_. And then disappear from the one place he needed them most.

He whined pathetically, shuddering, his cock hard and throbbing, slick and shiny with his own precome. Had he been able to drag a few more neurons together to notice, he’d have realized his lower belly was slick as well with just how much he was leaking, how long he’d been laying there.

The hand on him was firm this time, almost rough and he was so sensitive that it nearly hurt. He couldn’t keep still, head thrashing from side to side, arms straining. The cuffs around his wrists were padded, thank God, or he’d probably be bleeding, with the way he was tugging. The chain that connected them rattled around the wood they were threaded through, strong and unyielding.

A calloused thumb swiped around the tip of his cock, pausing there to rasp over the slit, spreading more wetness and he couldn’t, he _couldn’t_ -

He wasn’t supposed to! Not until he was told! He gasped, breath ragged and short, the muscles in his belly tight and he bit his lip hard, trying to fight it off, but he could _taste_ it and he wanted it so bad-

The hands were gone again, leaving his cock jerking pathetically in the cool air (cool compared to his overheated skin) and his breath was a shudder when he breathed out, something like a sob hitching it. He felt the touch again, but higher, gliding over his belly and sides, soothing and gentle and completely at odds with the one that had come before.

It was just enough to keep him from tipping over and he’d lost track of if he should be grateful or livid. He’d lost track of a lot of things. He could barely force his eyes open to look down at the figure hovering over him.

“Fucking- Christ- _Brian_.“ His voice was shredded.

Brian couldn’t help but smile at the form sprawled out for him, beginning to settle again as he gave him a different touch to focus on, soothing his overwrought nerves. He’d had him on edge like this for nearly an hour, winding him up, right to the point of orgasm and carefully backing him back down again.

He knew he was getting close to his limit, almost ready to give in and beg. But he wasn’t quite there yet. And Synyster Gates settled for nothing less than perfection.

“Yeah, Zacky, I got you.”

He slid a hand up, circling a reddened nipple. He’d pinched and played with them earlier, working them until they were hard and tender, until one brush of his thumb across them had Zack arching up, squirming like he didn’t know if he wanted more or needed to get away.

He was on his knees, straddling Zack’s thighs, keeping his lower body effectively pinned, the cuffs stoically keeping his arms secured over his head. Zack was completely bare, open to his every gaze and touch, but he had a pair of tight black pants on. Too tight… Seeing Zack manage to slit his eyes open, he took one hand away, careful to always keep one moving on that pale skin, and reached down, giving his own cock a slow squeeze, just some pressure to keep himself sane.

The pants might be almost painful, confining him as they were, but they also helped him focus. This wasn’t about his needs. And even the little show, as he let his eyes slide closed, mouth falling open in a gusty moan, was all for the other guitarist.

Hand leaving himself, he opened his eyes again, smirking dark and toothy. A sharp slap to Zack’s thigh had those green eyes snapping completely open, wide and startled, present for a second, and then Brian’s hand was on his cock again, immediately wringing out an agonized moan as he began coaxing him back towards the edge.

His breathing hadn’t really had time to slow, but he was panting again, sounding as if he’d just run a marathon. Despite the twisted, painful seeming expression, his hips strained to arch up, to thrust into the hand on him and finally, _please god finally_ , find his end.

The strokes were slower this time, but no less tight and Zack’s toes were curling with the sweet, overwhelming pleasure of it, almost better after the fleeting sting of the slap. A hand cupped his balls, tight and high and feeling so full, toofull and he broke the tiniest bit, words punched out of him like a fist to the gut.

“Fuck! Please, please, fuck Brian, please!” He couldn’t control his gasping, and he knew his arms were tugging at the cuffs again, but he couldn’t control that either, could only lay there and take what Brian gave him.

“I can’t- please, I need to, _I need to!_ ”

He didn’t stop until he could see Zack tensing again, getting close, so close. He immediately let go and rubbed his hands over smooth, pale thighs and that was definitely a sob this time.

“You can, you’re doing so good baby. So good, you’re gorgeous Zacky. Look at you.” He skated his fingers up, skirting Zack’s cock, stained dark and hot with blood and twitching against his belly with the nearness of his orgasm, gliding through the precome coating his skin instead.

“I know you’re almost ready baby, you’re so close. Just a little more. Can you wait a little longer? You’ve got me so fucking hard Zacky, I’ll be lucky if I don’t come in my fucking pants.”

Zack wanted to shake his head. Could he take more? Brian thought he could. And Brian would take care of him. His chest heaved at the thought of having to wait, skin buzzing with the need to come. Even Brian’s words had his cock twitching, more clear slickness coating his belly as he shivered.

But he managed to back away from the edge, fighting against Brian’s words as they threatened to just shove him over on their own. The breathtaking smile he got once his body settled a little more was almost worth it.

“That’a boy. I knew you could do it.” He waited a little longer, to be sure the first touch wouldn’t just throw Zack over, then wrapped his hand around the smaller guitarist’s cock. The harsh groan and twist of his upper body weren’t unexpected, but Brian kept his grip, purposeful as he began to stroke. He didn’t know how many times they’d gone through this process already, but as the first tears gathered at Zack’s lash line, he knew this would be the last.

He didn’t know how his body kept moving like that. He didn’t feel like he had the energy for it, but every time Brian touched him, he couldn’t keep from reacting. He desperately wanted to thrust up, felt like he _had_ to, but the weight on his thighs wouldn’t let him. He whimpered.

The sound was almost pitiful and Brian sped his strokes, hand sliding with slick, obscene noises. It was hot and dirty and glorious. “Come on Zacky, almost there baby…”

He added a wicked twist around the head of Zack’s cock on each upstroke and the kid was so far gone he could read him like an open book. Saw the way his whole body tensed and went still, the way his eyes clenched shut, mouth falling open in a sweet ‘o’ of pleasure and intensity. The calm before the storm.

“Ah- I- I-“

Brian sucked in a slow breath, feeling caught up in it, like time had frozen. But he wasn’t pulling back this time. “Come, Zack.”

His hand fell, stroking down Zack’s cock. And Zack fell with it.

He arched, the force of his body thrusting up almost unseating Brian as his orgasm crashed over him. Everything was white and hot and cold and he couldn’t really pick out individual feelings, only the relief, the tension finally shattering.

He screamed, unconscious of doing so as he came, the rolling pulses wracking his body and making him jerk each time with the strength of them, little noses punctuating each one. It felt like it went on forever, like he was lost and floating and like he’d have nothing left, his bones gone to liquid and forced out through his dick.

Brian could only stare, watching Zack’s orgasm consume him. The first rope of come actually reached his lower lip , splattering over the bitten-pink fullness and the sight- He bit his own lip hard, struggling to stroke Zack through the pleasure, milk him of everything. He wanted every drop, wanted Zack wrung out and completely satisfied.

By the time Zack was beginning to relax again, cock twitching with the strong after shocks of such an intense orgasm, he couldn’t take it anymore. He left a hand on Zack’s side, rubbing to sooth the shivers, but the other tore at his pants, ripping at the button and barely getting his cock free before he was coming, adding to the impressive mess on Zack’s belly.

He groaned harshly, pressing into his own hand, curling over the man spread out under him, gasping. He knew Zack was beyond even caring, but he tried not to linger. It was a fucking relief, but it was still about Zack. He wasn’t done yet.

Panting softly, he wiped his hand on his pants, reaching for the key to the cuffs. He had Zack’s hands free quickly, rubbing at his wrists and arms to encourage blood flow back into them.

He was so, so glad he’d thought ahead and left a soft cloth and bowl of water on the bedside table. He wasn’t sure his legs would work right now. Cleaning them up- cleaning _Zack_ up- almost required a water change, but he made due, finally dropping the cloth into the murky water and shoving his pants down and carelessly off the side of the bed as he stretched out, strong arms pulling the smaller man close.

He was shaking a little still, not quite back from the place he’d drifted to. Brian held him tight, rubbing over one arm, the hand periodically drifting up to card through the soft, black hair. He let his own mind wander as he waited, humming quietly to himself.

It took a little bit, but finally Zack shifted, making a soft noise. It felt like gravity had started to work again. He had to blink several times before he could focus properly, the face swimming into view registering.

“Brian?”

“Hey.” He smiled, brushing a thumb over Zack’s cheek, wiping away a tear track. “How are you feeling?”

Zack had to stop and take stock, twitching various parts of his body. His arms felt like lead, but he forced them around the other guitarist, settling comfortably. His muscles felt tired, skin oversensitive and he was still trembling a little bit, though it was slowing to occasional shivers.

He sighed, closing his eyes again. Overall though, he felt warm and a little tingly. Like he was a small sun with skin that fit just right over everything. He smiled tiredly. “Good.”

Brian chuckled and pressed a kiss to Zack’s forehead, snagging a blanket to drag up, swaddling them both into its warmth. “Just good?”

Zack giggled. Fucking _giggled_ , but he couldn’t bring himself to care, exhausted and tingly and completely, utterly sated. “Fucking great.”

Laughing, Brian drew the rhythm guitarist that much closer, stroking through his hair again, letting his eyes close. “Rest, baby. You earned a nap.”

“I fucking did.” The words were muffled into Brian’s collarbone, and he grinned, even as he drifted off.


End file.
